


Pride (In the Name of Love)

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-03-24
Updated: 2007-03-24
Packaged: 2018-10-27 10:42:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10807467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: : All Ron wanted when he took the Ministry job was a better life for him and Susan. He never thought he might lose everything that really mattered in the bargain.





	Pride (In the Name of Love)

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes: Written for the 2007 Triatharon for Team Het, using the prompt 'pride'.  


* * *

“They have an opening in the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” Ginny said, sliding into the booth across from Ron. “That’s the rumour, anyway.”

 

“Hello to you, too,” Ron replied, looking up from his menu. “You know, it’s still not too late to change my mind and meet with Susan instead for lunch rather than my baby sister.”

 

Ginny stuck out her tongue, as if she was four years old still, rather than twenty-four. Ron responded in kind before they both began laughing at their silliness. Ron handed Ginny a menu and opened his once more.

 

“Actually, I also wanted to warn you that Mum’s planning to ask us kids round to dinner next week. Now that I’ve got the Healer’s all-clear to Apparate again—“

 

“She wants an excuse to spoil her latest grandchild.” Ron nodded, unsurprised. Beginning with Bill and Fleur, then Percy and Penelope, followed by Charlie and Hermione and now Ginny and Neville, it had become almost a tradition for the entire family to meet at the Burrow approximately six weeks following a birth. Everyone got to fuss over the newest arrival, Fred and George would get the ‘Your father and I aren’t getting any younger’ lecture from Molly, and she would again ask Ron when he planned to make an honest woman of Susan Bones by marrying her. Last year, following the birth of Charlie and Hermione’s twins, she’d asked that question with Susan standing right beside him, making them both blush.

 

He wasn’t looking forward to fielding that particular question yet again, even though he wanted to see Ginny and Neville’s firstborn. It wasn’t that he didn’t _want_ to marry Susan – he did – but now wasn’t the right time.

 

“Ron? You’re staring into space again.”

 

He gave himself a mental shake. “Sorry, Gin. You were saying?”

 

“I was saying that you should put in for that position.” Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother’s inattention. “You’d be terrific. You know the sports, the teams, the rules and regulations like you know the back of your hand. You have friends who play Quidditch at a professional level. I know Percy or Dad would put in a good word. And it pays quite well, I hear.”

 

“I have a job already,” he protested. “I don’t know why you’re telling me about this Ministry position. If you’re so keen about it, maybe you should apply.”

 

“Ron,” Ginny said with a sigh, “you make broomsticks for a living. It’s certainly not the sort of career one expects from a war hero.”

 

“And raising plants is?” Ron raised an eyebrow, and Ginny had the good grace to look abashed. “You certainly don’t seem ashamed of what your husband does for a living. Besides, I don’t ‘just make broomsticks’. I make racing brooms, and I’m good at it. There’s nothing quite like the feeling when an Unbreakable Braking charm settles into place, or calibrating the Acceleration charms. It’s very exacting work! I don’t know why you don’t approve. Susan doesn’t complain.”

 

Ginny made a noncommittal noise in her throat and they dropped the subject to order lunch. Instead, they spent the remaining time talking about Ginny and Neville’s infant son, who apparently had inherited his father’s looks and his mother’s temperament.

 

He gave her a hug once the bill had been paid. “I’ll keep an ear out for Mum’s Floo call,” he said. “And I’ll give Susan the heads up.”

 

Giving her a final wave of farewell, Ron turned and started toward the Apparition point. He passed Whitaker’s Jewellery Shop along the way, pausing to look in the display window at the ring he planned to buy for Susan once he’d saved enough Galleons, as he’d done every day for the past four months. 

 

The ring was gone. There was a ring in the window, but it wasn’t _the_ ring.

 

Ron entered the shop, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach. “What happened to the ring in the window?” he asked the shopkeeper. “There’s a different ring in there. What happened to the first one?”

 

The shopkeeper sniffed, adjusting his spectacles. “I sold it this morning, young man,” he said haughtily. “Perhaps I could interest you in another?”

 

Ron shook his head, unable to hide his disappointment. “No. Not today.”

 

That evening, he applied for the Ministry position.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

“Susan! Brilliant news!” Ron bounded into the bedroom that currently doubled as a sewing room, since Susan didn’t yet have the funds to purchase her own shop.

 

Susan looked up from the pattern she was cutting from a length of rose-coloured silk. “Your mother has spattergroit and cancelled dinner at the Burrow tonight?” she asked playfully. Fond as she was of Molly Weasley, she shared Ron’s views that perhaps his mother was pushing a little too hard on discovering a future wedding date.

 

Ron shook his head. Wrapping his fingers around Susan’s wand hand, he pulled her against him before whirling them both around the small room. “I left my job at the Nimbus Racing Broom Company.”

 

“You…what?” Susan peered up at his smiling face. “Ron, how is that brilliant news? You love your job there.”

 

“I found a better one. Ginny told me about it last week. I applied, got interviewed, and got the news today.” Ron bent his head and kissed her nose. “You, my love, are looking at the newest undersecretary for Ludo Bagman, in the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

 

“I thought you didn’t even like the man,” Susan said dubiously. “Said he was unsavoury.”

 

“They were never able to prove he was a Death Eater, past or present,” Ron replied. “He wouldn’t still be Head of Department if they had. Anyway, I was offered the position, I accepted it, and I gave Mr Loomis my notice. I start on Monday.”

 

“This is rather sudden.” Susan dropped her wand in favour of threading her fingers through Ron’s hair. “I thought we were supposed to talk about things like career changes before following through.”

 

“We are,” Ron agreed, not sounding apologetic in the least. “I wanted to surprise you. Things will be better now, Sus. I’ll be making three times what I was earning for Nimbus. We can finally move out of this dingy flat into something larger. I’ll be able to take you places, buy you things that aren’t secondhand. We’ll be able to save faster for your shop. Susan, I can get free tickets to Cannons matches now!”

 

“Well, that explains everything. Never mind telling your girlfriend you’re job-hunting, or that you found one, there are free Cannons tickets to be had!” Tugging his head down, she kissed his nose, both cheeks, and his chin. Ron made a soft growling noise, and Susan giggled before kissing him properly on the mouth.

 

“So…you don’t…mind?” Ron asked between kisses.

 

Susan slipped a hand between them, cupping him gently through his robes and deepening the kiss. “I don’t mind if you don’t mind, so long as it’s really what you want.”

 

“Oh, it’s what I want, all right,” Ron answered, wrapping his arms around her, only partially referring to his new employment. He sat down on the edge of the bed, narrowly avoiding the fabric from Susan’s latest sewing commission. She obligingly swung a leg over, settling down astride his lap.

 

“Then I’m happy for you,” Susan murmured, leaning forward and nibbling gently on his neck, just below his ear. She drew back just enough to kiss him again, deeply and thoroughly.

 

Ron moaned, sliding his hands up her back to pull her even closer. She let him, leaning against his chest, her lips moving along his jawline, her hands roving over his back and shoulders. He closed his eyes, losing himself in her touch.

 

“I want you,” he said softly as they pulled apart at last, panting. “I want you so badly.”

 

“Mmm, I see that,” Susan murmured, her hand going between the hardness pressed between them. “We’ll be late to your mum’s.”

 

“I don’t care.” Ron’s breathing hitched as her fingers closed around him. “Just…god, Susan…”

 

Giving him a wicked smile, Susan released him and slid from his lap long enough to pull off her knickers. “Open your robes and trousers,” she whispered. 

 

Swallowing a whimper, Ron did as she asked, feeling himself grow even harder if possible when Susan licked her lips as his cock became visible. Holding up her robes, she settled back onto his lap, Ron steadying her as she took hold of him and guided him inside her. 

 

It was hard, fast and powerful. Ron buried his face in Susan’s shoulder, muffling the sounds he couldn’t help but make, dimly aware that she had done the same thing as he thrust up into her one final time and came. It was a good five minutes before their breathing evened and she lifted from him; and even then Ron’s knees felt wobbly. Judging from the careful manner in which Susan bent to retrieve her knickers, she felt the same.

 

“There,” she said, casting a wandless Cleaning charm on them both, “that should tide us over until after we return home.”

 

Ron grinned, running a hand through his mussed hair and asked cheekily, “That long?”

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Ron let himself quietly into the flat, so as not to disturb Susan. He’d become quite good at that since taking the job at the Ministry six months earlier.

 

Tonight, he needn’t have bothered. Susan was awake, curled up on the new sofa Ron had purchased the previous week, a mug of tea in her hands.

 

“You can have leftovers,” Susan said, raising the mug to her lips. “I had dinner with Hannah and Ernie tonight. I think there’s still some roast left.”

 

“Fine. Roast is fine.” Ron dropped his briefcase onto the floor and made his way into the kitchen. He could feel the weight of Susan’s eyes on his back the entire time, heavy with disapproval. He didn’t say anything as he made a sandwich and took a bite.

 

“So what was the reason tonight?” Susan still hadn’t moved from her place on the sofa. “A meeting? Paperwork? Some project that absolutely couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” She made a small noise. “Or, to be more accurate, later today?”

 

“All of the above,” Ron replied, taking another bite of his sandwich. “I never knew there was so much paperwork and red tape involved when it came to organising team schedules and interleague play and sifting through the rulebooks.”

 

“This is the Ministry for Magic we’re talking about,” Susan said, shifting on the sofa. “I’m surprised it hasn’t collapsed for the bureaucratic weight.”

 

“Or exploded from all the hot air,” Ron sighed. Dropping onto the sofa beside her, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, blue velvet box. “I got something for you on my lunch break today.”

 

“Ron…” Susan looked at him helplessly. “I don’t need another pair of earrings or a new necklace. I’d much rather spend more time with you. I never see you anymore.”

 

“I saw Mr Loomis today,” Ron said quietly. “Remember him? He was my supervisor when I still worked for Nimbus. He was there meeting with someone else in the department. We chatted for a bit. He said he still hadn’t found anyone who could charm the broomsticks as well as I did.”

 

Susan rested a hand on his knee. “You miss it, don’t you?”

 

He shrugged. “Sometimes,” he lied. He missed it a lot more often than sometimes. “Are you going to open that box or not?”

 

Setting the mug to one side, she took the box from his hand and opened it, looking at the contents for a long moment. “I guess I was wrong,” she said finally. “It’s a comb.”

 

“For your hair. I thought, since it’s got pearls that it would go with the necklace and earrings, it would make a nice matched set, you know?” Ron brushed back a tendril of blonde hair from Susan’s face. “Bagman is having some sort of function next month for the visiting Germans. I’d – I’d like it if you wore them.”

 

Closing the box, Susan set it aside in favour of the mug. “If you insist. I’d rather hear more about your conversation with Mr Loomis.”

 

“We just talked a bit.” Ron said uncomfortably. “Good old days and all that. Nothing of importance, really. He sends his regards.”

 

Susan drained her mug and got to her feet. “I’m going to bed. Good night, Ron. Thank you for the comb.”

 

“You could at least pretend to some enthusiasm,” Ron said to her back. “Those pearls weren’t cheap!”

 

“I imagine not.” Susan hesitated, then turned around, meeting his blue eyes with hers. “It’s just that given the choice between spending the evening with a bunch of baubles and spending it with you, I’d rather spend it with you. Good night, Ron.”

 

He bit back the angry words that wanted to spill out. Didn’t she realise that everything he’d done over the past six months had been for her? They lived in a tidy cottage instead of a dingy flat, they had a savings account at Gringott’s, and Susan wouldn’t be opening her own shop next month because of the late nights and arse-kissing he’d had to do at the Ministry to make it all happen. He’d bought jewellery and perfume and silk dressing gowns because he loved Susan and wanted her to have nice things. When had that become a criminal act? He wouldn’t have been able to contribute so much to their future plans, or give her such things six months earlier. What was her problem?

 

He heard Susan preparing for bed, but didn’t follow. Instead, he finished his sandwich, got his briefcase, and opened it. He had another meeting first thing in the morning, and he wanted to go over his notes one more time. 

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

“That was quite a coup, getting the Arrows to switch from their Firebolts to the new Nimbus 3000s,” Ron said excitedly as he and Susan left the Ministry. “If Appleby has a winning season, then it’ll be easier to sell them to other teams, both here and internationally. Mr Loomis was even talking about trying to break into the American Quodpot market.”

 

“I know,” Susan said with a wry smile. “I was standing next to you the entire time while you and Mr Loomis were talking.”

 

Running into his former boss at the Ministry function had been the highlight of Ron’s evening. That, and having the opportunity to show off Susan, who had been radiant in coral-coloured dress robes and the pearls he’d bought for her. He and Loomis had spent a huge chunk of the evening catching up and reminiscing. 

 

He paused just long enough for them to Apparate back to their flat before resuming his mostly one-sided conversation.

 

“Everyone knows British racing brooms are the best in the world,” Ron continued, still excitedly. “He’ll succeed.”

 

“I think you should go back to work for him,” Susan said suddenly. “Quit the Ministry.”

 

Startled, Ron turned to stare at her. “Quit?” he repeated. “I can’t up and quit the Ministry!” 

 

Nonplussed, Susan removed the pearl necklace and earrings he had bought for her, then the matching comb from her hair. Setting them aside without a second glance, she began taking out the pins holding up the rest of her hair, letting it fall free to her waist. He was still staring as she walked into their bedroom and picked up her hairbrush from the vanity.

 

“Of course you can quit,” she said. “Monday morning, you walk into Bagman’s office and give him a letter of resignation, and then you go to Mr Loomis and ask for your old job. I’m sure it’ll take him all of two seconds to agree, if it takes that long.”

 

“But…but…” Ron sputtered. “I can’t do that!”

 

“But nothing. It shouldn’t be that difficult. You hate it there, don’t tell me you don’t. I would have figured that out tonight if I hadn’t already known. You barely spoke to anyone else all evening.” Susan began brushing her hair, tugging at it with more force than was strictly necessary. “Or do the extra Galleons mean more to you than your own happiness? Or ours?”

 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Ron felt himself reddening. “There’s nothing wrong with having money. You’ve never complained about it before!”

 

“Well, I’m complaining now.” Susan’s gaze was stony as she continued brushing her hair. “You should have seen yourself tonight, Ron. I hadn’t seen your eyes light up like they did while you were talking with Mr Loomis in a long time. You were _happy_ to see him, _happy_ to talk shop with him. You don’t do that anymore. I didn’t realise until now just how much I’d missed seeing that enthusiasm in you.”

 

“Enthusiasm doesn’t pay the rent,” Ron said through gritted teeth. “At least, it didn’t last time I checked. You’re not honestly saying you thought things were better for us before I got the Ministry job, are you?”

 

Susan threw down the hairbrush so hard Ron heard it crack when it struck the floor. “If you have to ask such a stupid question, you can sleep somewhere else tonight.”

 

“Susan!” Ron stepped forward, but it was too late. The bedroom door slammed shut in his face, followed by the click of the lock. He could have charmed it open, he knew, but figured it probably wouldn’t be the best idea at the moment. Grabbing the doorknob, he gave it a rattle. “Susan, open the door!”

 

“Go sleep with your briefcase! You spend more time with it than me, anyway,” came the muffled, quavery reply, and Ron blinked. Was Susan _crying_?

 

He spent the next half hour alternately pleading, coaxing, and ranting, with no further response. The door stayed closed and locked. Susan didn’t say another word. 

 

It was probably a good thing the sofa had been purchased recently, Ron thought as he settled down for the night, defeated. The seat cushions didn’t sag.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

“Susan locked you out of the bedroom?” Harry let out a long, low whistle. “That’s not good, mate.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Ron swallowed the last of his butterbeer before signalling the waiter for another. “You’d think having money was a mortal sin. All I wanted was to make her happy, you know? Give her the things she deserves. Is that so wrong?”

 

Harry studied him for a long time without speaking, until Ron had to fight an urge to squirm in his seat. He might be happily married to Luna, but he had definitely learned that penetrating stare from Hermione.

 

“It seems to me,” Harry said slowly, “that Susan was already happy before you took that job with the Ministry. She loved you, you loved her…weren’t you discussing marriage at one time?”

 

“More than that,” Ron replied. “I was saving toward a ring, until someone else purchased it practically right under my nose. Ginny had told me about the Ministry opening, so I applied that same day. I’m saving toward another ring now. A better ring. We’re talking serious sparkle here.”

 

Harry sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t think Susan could care less about the size of the rock. I think right now all she wants is you.”

 

Ron shook his head. “That’s what I don’t understand, Harry. She’s got me! I’m going to marry her!”

 

“She can’t if you’re already married.” Harry fell silent as the waiter returned with Ron’s butterbeer. Once the other man had moved on he continued, “She’s right about one thing, though. We never see you anymore because you’re always working, and when we do see you, it’s like you’re a different person. I hate to say this, but…”

 

“But what? If you’ve got something to say, then say it!” Ron drank a large swallow from his fresh drink, still stung by Harry’s insinuation that he was already married to his job.

 

Harry sighed. “You’re turning into another Percy. Maybe with a slightly less-stuffed shirt, but you’re showing a lot of the same tendencies. You both practically live at the Ministry as it is. The only difference so far is that Percy seems to like it that way. Do you?”

 

“I just want a good life for Susan!” Ron yelled, causing the other patrons at the Leaky Cauldron to turn their heads. “Why can’t she see that?”

 

“A good life for Susan? Or a good life for you?” Harry tossed some Sickles onto the table and stood. “Once you figure out the answer to that question, then maybe she’ll actually say yes when you present her with that seriously sparkly ring and ask her to marry you.”

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Ron didn’t come home that night. 

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

Susan looked almost comically surprised when she came home the following day to find Ron waiting for her. The expression on her face should have been amusing, but it only sent a pang through him.

 

She recovered quickly, closing the door behind her and crossing the room to sit next to him, one hand going to his forehead. “You’re home early,” she said. “Are you not feeling well? Should I drop by the apothecary?”

 

“I’m fine.” Catching her hand between both of his, Ron brought it to his lips. “In fact, I’ve never been better. I quit the Ministry today.”

 

Susan went very still. “You…quit?”

 

Ron nodded. “Did it just like you said. I walked into Bagman’s office and told him I couldn’t do it anymore.”

 

“And Mr Loomis?”

 

“Less than two seconds to take me back, and a raise to boot.” Ron chuckled, remembering that particular meeting. “You were right about that, too.”

 

Ron had entertained a little scene in his head for most of the day. In it, he told Susan about quitting the Ministry and being rehired by the Nimbus Racing Broom Company. So far, so good. He’d also imagined a lovely scenario where Susan threw her arms around him, delighted at the news. She’d kiss him, which would lead to other, even more pleasurable ways to spend the evening.

 

Susan did none of those things. Instead, she curled her fingers around his and asked, “Why? Because if you tell me the only reason you did it was to please me, I swear…”

 

“It was a big reason, yes,” Ron admitted, lips still brushing over her hand, “but it wasn’t the only one. I’ve been doing some thinking.”

 

“Go on.” Susan remained still, her eyes fixed on his. She seemed to be barely breathing.

 

“You, um, asked me once if a few extra Galleons was more important to me than our happiness together,” Ron said quietly. “Later, Harry asked if I was more concerned about making a better life for you, or for myself. And it got me to thinking. I just…I wanted…” He looked at her helplessly. “I don’t know how to say this. I’ve been an idiot, haven’t I?”

 

Susan’s lips twitched. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

 

“Probably not.” Ron gave her a somewhat sheepish smile. Releasing Susan’s hand, he scrubbed a hand across his face. “You were right. I was happier at Nimbus working for Mr Loomis than I ever was at the Ministry. I just got it into my head somehow that if we were happy before, then having a job that earned more would make us even happier, and it didn’t work that way. Yeah, the Galleons were there, and I got to do and buy things I wouldn’t have before, but I hardly ever saw you or our friends, and I never…I never felt that same sense of accomplishment. I could look at a racing broomstick and say, ‘I made that’, but I never felt that way after wading through some stack of parchment or another. But the money was so good, and I’d never had so much before, and it all got confused. Anyway, I’ve been stupid. Can you forgive me?”

 

Susan threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly, and Ron held back a grin. _This_ was more like he’d imagined. He hugged her back, his head on her shoulder, feeling closer and more connected than he had in a very long time.

 

“You silly man,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against his hair. “I’m so glad you figured things out.” Drawing back, she cupped his face between her palms. “Now that you’ve discovered your sense of accomplishment and self-esteem doesn’t have to equal the size of your paycheque, what are you going to do now?”

 

“I’m going to finish apologising properly, of course.” Ron stood with a grin, pulling Susan up with him. She let out a surprised squeal when he scooped her into his arms. Bending his head, he closed the distance between them and their lips touched.

 

Her arms tightened around his neck as his mouth slanted over hers. Susan’s mouth parted without hesitation, and she moaned low in her throat as his tongue glided along hers before plundering the depths, rediscovering what time and the demands of his former job had denied him for too long.

 

He broke the kiss, nuzzling her throat, and carried her into their bedroom, setting her down carefully on the mattress like the treasure she was. Susan captured his mouth with hers once more, her hands quickly divesting him of his outer robes as well as hers, struggling to unfasten his belt. Their breathing grew ragged between kisses as Susan abandoned his belt for the time being in favour of attacking the buttons on his shirt as he laid her back on the mattress.

 

Ron brushed a strand of hair from her cheek before replacing fingers with lips, trailing them down her jaw to her throat. Susan shivered beneath him, pushing his shirt apart to touch bare skin, fingers curling when his tongue found her pulse point. Her loud moan joined his.

 

“Need you,” she rasped as Ron slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. He didn’t answer, scraping his teeth over a collarbone, his hand cupping and squeezing one breast before gliding down her side to her hip. Her tongue licked at her bottom lip, slumping deeper into the bed as Ron deftly unhooked the front clasp of her bra, pushing the scrap of lace aside and closing his mouth around one peaked nipple. Susan gasped, tossing beneath him as he suckled gently.

 

“You’re so bloody sexy,” Ron whispered against her skin, flicking his tongue over her other nipple. “I don’t deserve you.”

 

“Do too,” Susan admonished breathily, reaching between their bodies to cup his cock through his trousers before tugging at the button. “You’re wearing too many clothes, Ron.”

 

He didn’t want to pull back, didn’t want to stop touching her with hands and lips; but he knelt over her, obliging. Her slender fingers made quick work of unzipping Ron’s trousers, tugging them down over his hips. Her breathing became quick and shallow when she freed his hard, aching cock from its confines.

 

Susan raised her gaze to meet his, one hand cupping his cheek. “Love me.”

 

Ron lowered his head, taking her mouth once again in response, answering her plea with lips and tongue. His hand swept along her belly until it curved around one breast, squeezing gently. Susan whimpered into his mouth as his fingers flicked lightly against the nipple.

 

Letting go of her mouth, Ron nibbled teasingly at her bottom lip. His tongue traced a path to the hollow of her throat, lingering there before descending to the graceful curve of her collarbone, and down further still until his lips fastened over the other nipple. His teeth scraped ever so lightly across the tip and Susan arched her back, hands clenching and unclenching in the bedclothes.

 

“Please, Ron,” she moaned. “Oh, _Merlin_ …”

 

His tongue danced along the nipple, laving it, swirling around it. His hand slid over her stomach, undoing the catch in her skirt. Susan lifted her hips without his needing to ask, pushing it and her knickers down over her thighs and kicking them away. Ron cupped her mound. Susan moaned again and parted her legs, again without his having to ask; and he allowed one finger to dip down, testing. She was wet and slick and ready, so very, very ready.

 

It would be so simple, Ron thought, to take her now, drive into her until they were both on the verge of shattering. Instead, he continued kissing his way down her body, settling between her legs. Spreading her open, he ran his tongue along her wetness. Susan made a keening sound, hands tightening into fists against the sheets as Ron let himself explore every fold and crevice, savouring the tang of her as if for the first time. Pushing her thighs wider, he lifted them slightly, dipping his tongue into her slick heat. Susan cried out as her orgasm rushed through her with a ferocity that surprised – and gratified – Ron. He slid his tongue back and over her clit, hearing her whimper, feeling her tremble and tense, and in moments she was coming again.

 

Ron could no longer deny his own need to be inside her. Kissing his way back up her body, he found the pulse point in her throat again while nestling between her legs, feeling them part further to accommodate him. Her head fell back, granting him better access as his tongue darted out to lick along it. Her hands kneaded his back convulsively as Ron’s cock slid against her wetness, rocking over her until her pleas became a one-word litany as she whimpered his name.

 

He entered her slowly, gasping when she tightened around him so hot and hard and fierce Ron nearly came then and there. Susan’s hips slammed up against his, burying himself within her, and he was lost.

 

They moved fluidly, the rhythm creating sparks from the delicious friction between their bodies. Susan held him to her, her heels digging into Ron’s thighs as he stroked faster and deeper into her, her nails raking his shoulders. Ron groaned at the sensation and began slamming into her, their cries drowning out the squeaking bedframe.

 

Susan came yet again with a muffled sob, her face buried in Ron’s neck, her walls clenching madly around his cock, and Ron followed a gasping breath later, stiffening above her with a low groan as his orgasm spasmed through him.

 

He felt utterly drained when he pulled out, collapsing on the bed next to Susan, but at peace. Susan turned, resting her head on Ron’s chest just above his heart, her fingers tracing random patterns over his damp skin. His own hands roamed along her spine, mapping each knob with his fingertips. He didn’t recall her ever being quite so thin before, and felt a fresh pang of regret.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “for everything. I’ll make it all up to you Susan, I swear.”

 

“You’ve made a very good start,” Susan replied, pushing herself up until she was braced over him. Licking her lips, she slid down Ron’s body to kiss his navel. A few flicks of her tongue, a few light caresses of her fingertips, and Ron found his cock stirring back to life.

 

“Susan, you don’t have to…”

 

“Shhh.” Sliding her tongue over the head, she took him deep within her mouth before raising her gaze to Ron’s. He groaned, lifting his hips slightly, his hands going to clutch the pillow at either side of his head. She released him with a small smile, licking the underside of his cock. “Just promise me that you won’t let your pride get in the way of our happiness again.”

 

“I promise,” Ron breathed. His fingers twined through her hair as she took him fully into her mouth, and after that he couldn’t think or say anything further.

 

 

~*~*~

 

 

The next day, Ron used his final paycheque from the Ministry to purchase a seriously sparkly ring for Susan, confident that she wouldn’t say no.


End file.
